


Turnadette Domestic Fluff

by BBCShipper



Category: Call the Midwife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 13:16:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 9,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14569821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BBCShipper/pseuds/BBCShipper
Summary: For the month of April I participated in a "30 Days of Domestic Fluff" series of prompts. Posting them all here now in one collection. It's not quite 30 (I missed 1 day and pulled out 2 others for continuation later). But they're all one-shots of 250-500 words each. Rated K-T, I think.





	1. Chapter 1

**Waking Up Together**  
Shelagh’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of Teddy rustling around in the cot beside her. She only allowed herself the briefest of moments to shake the sleepiness away, or else the tossing and turning of the infant would grow into hungry cries that would awake the rest of the house. Desperate to try and allow Patrick a few more minutes of rest, she tried to ease out of the bedsheets without disturbing him, then bent over the edge of the bed to draw Teddy close.

“Good morning, dearest” he whispered, casting a longing look over her backside as she was still hunched over the cot. 

Shelagh let out a small huff of exasperation, unaware of the grin playing across his face. “I’m sorry, I really tried to let you sleep. There’s no need for you to be up yet, it’s not like you can help with the nursing.”

“No” he let out a soft chuckle, “I can’t do that, but that doesn't mean I don’t want to be awake with you.” He paused and rubbed the top of Teddy’s head, then turned to caress her cheek, “I always enjoy when we wake up together.”

Shelagh blushed slightly and looked down at their son, she still felt shy at times under this man’s gaze, the way he looked at her as if he could never get enough. She imagined that even in 20 years time he would still be giving her that look, and it would still make her blush. “I quite enjoy waking together too” she smiled, snuggling up close to his side, laying her head upon his chest, the sounds of Patrick’s loving heartbeat and Teddy’s satisfied gulping filling her ears and her heart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Morning Routine**  
Patrick grinned as his daughter continued giggling under the onslaught of his tickling fingers. When they first brought Angela home, Shelagh had tried to do it all, as Shelagh often did. But Patrick wasn’t one to sit around doing nothing while his wife worked herself ragged, despite what other men said about housework and helping with the children, and so he decided to help by making breakfast while Shelagh got Angela ready in the mornings. It didn’t take long to realize that Timothy was going to revolt if this pattern continued, lamenting that he was going to starve to death, much as he had when his mum had first passed away. And so, Patrick and Shelagh came up with their new morning routine: she would fix breakfast while he made sure the children were ready for the day.

Each morning, Patrick would wake up Timothy, who was fairly self-sufficient at getting himself ready and didn’t require much effort on his part, then he would prepare a bottle for Angela and dress her in an outfit Shelagh laid out for them the night before. It took Patrick much longer to get her dressed and ready than Shelagh ever did, but he wouldn’t trade this time for all the world, often indulging her in tickles and foot rubs and kisses all over, the sound of their mingled giggles and laughter wafting through the house. He loved mornings with his sweet girl, the time of day when it was just the two of them in all the world.


	3. Chapter 3

**Doing Laundry**  
The sitting room looked like a tornado had struck the house; piles of clothes covered every available surface, more clothes than Shelagh ever dreamed the family even owned. The electric washing machine in their new home had been a dream come true, until it decided to quit working for days, causing a massive pileup of clothing for the family of five. Shelagh chided herself for having gotten rid of the old one so quickly, but she hadn’t thought that they would need it. The electric machine was finally running again, but now she was faced with folding the clothing equivalent of Mt. Everest.

The only way that this was going to get finished would be for them to divide and conquer, Shelagh determined, she simply couldn’t deal with it on her own. She soon recruited every member of the family save Teddy to begin to fold. It wasn’t pretty, Angela’s folding of nappies turned more into triangle-shaped blobs than neat squares and poor Patrick didn’t seem to know which way was up when trying place her blouses on hangers, but soon enough the room was visible again and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

“What do you think you’re doing??” Shelagh asked Patrick when they were finally upstairs and settling in for the night.

“Um… getting ready for bed?” Patrick was confused as to what he could possibly be doing wrong, he was following the same routine he had every night.

“I don’t want to do any more laundry, please don’t put anything more into the hamper!” Shelagh felt like she would cry if she had to wash one more thing.

“Well, then,” Patrick grinned wide, his voice low and growing husky, “I guess... for the sake of your sanity... we’d better not wear anything at all tonight then.” She didn’t disagree.


	4. Chapter 4

**Night In**  
Shelagh let out a long, satisfied sigh as she surveyed her handiwork, checking to make sure she had not forgotten something - the table was set, dinner was ready on the table, and the candles were lit. Shelagh was really looking forward to this night in with Patrick, it had been too long since they simply had dinner together, but something felt like it was missing.

“Music!” she proclaimed to herself, rushing to the sitting room to select a record just as she heard Patrick coming through the front door.

“What’s all this?” Patrick asked as his eyes wandered up and down her slender frame. She was wearing his favorite blue dress, the one that hugged every curve of her hips and ended well above the knee, not something she would wear for an ordinary dinner with the family. Then he noticed the table set only for two, took note that she was playing their song, and spoke again, his voice low, “Shelagh, where are the children?”

“Didn’t I tell you, dear?” her voice full of innocence but the smile playing across her face telling a different story, “they’re with Granny Parker for the night.” She made her way across the room to him, swaying her hips in time with the music.

Patrick couldn’t resist when she did that, he never could, and suddenly she was in his arms as they danced around the room. She closed her eyes and leaned in close, breathing him in, letting his presence consume her, and stifling a giggle when she felt his hand roam lower from her back over her bottom. Patrick cupped his hand under her chin and drew her into a kiss, at once soft and passionate, and a different kind of dance ensued as Shelagh’s dress hit the floor.


	5. Chapter 5

**Nighttime Routine**  
Shelagh couldn’t help but laugh. If she didn’t laugh, she would cry, so she chose to be amused by the irony of the advice she handed out to the new mothers at Tuesday clinic. It’s not that they weren’t helpful leaflets, because they were, despite the fact that during her pregnancy she had made to-do lists out of them more often than reading them. But as she went home that Tuesday evening after telling yet another expectant mum about the importance of establishing a nighttime routine, Shelagh thought about her own home where such a routine was nonexistent. It was not for lack of trying, everyone knew how organized she was, but when you never know if your husband will be home for supper or bedtime, or even at all, it’s hard to establish a schedule.

So most evenings she just had to hope for the best and do what she could. While Shelagh guarded Teddy’s schedule with the ferocity of, well, a mother with an infant she wanted to be sure slept all night, most nights were anything but routine for the rest of the family. Sometimes the children would behave and they would all be fed well and bathed and hear a bedtime story. And other times there would be food on the floor and Angela went to bed with unwashed hair and Tim had to try to convince her to go to sleep. 

But one nighttime ritual that Shelagh never allowed to slip, no matter the time or how tired she was or if she was already asleep when he got home, she never let Patrick go to sleep without asking about his day and giving him a kiss. She absolutely refused to let him sleep without her letting him know how much she loved him and wanted every day of their lives to both begin and end with a loving kiss.


	6. Chapter 6

**Shopping (for needs)**  
If they were honest with each other, both Patrick and Shelagh would have admitted to being extremely nervous. Shelagh was in desperate need of new clothing, she had decided that the drab suit she had worn out of the sanatorium held sentimental value, but no value in the way of fashion and had done well enough choosing one new outfit, but it was such an overwhelming process, she had not been able to bring herself to shop for more.

Patrick had sensed her discomfort when he commented on the brown skirt suit, intending only to help her to know how beautiful she was, but wound up offering to accompany her to the shops on her next trip to lend moral support. So there he sat, the lone male in the store, surrounded by dresses of every cut and color and feeling incredibly anxious. How was he supposed to help her choose? Why hadn’t he tried harder to convince Shelagh that Trixie would love to take her shopping?

In the dressing room, Shelagh scolded herself again for allowing Patrick to come along. While she felt great comfort at his presence and had spent too many long, agonizing months unable to be with him, forcing him on a shopping excursion seemed a bit unfair to him. She should have been able to overcome her nerves and soldier through as she had always done.

Their relationship was still growing,still relying more upon knowing looks than open communication with words, so as Shelagh peeked out at Patrick patiently waiting in the third dress shop of the afternoon, she couldn’t help but smile at him. She reminded herself that he was there because he loved her, and she needed to learn to accept that love, because he gave it to her completely. And as Patrick saw her beaming up at him, he was reminded why he was really there: because he was determined to spend his entire life giving her everything she ever asked for.


	7. Chapter 7

**Exercising**  
“Patrick, the children are all asleep, no one will see, why not?” Shelagh pleaded, looking up at him with wide eyes, “it really will do a lot of good!”

“Absolutely not.” Patrick knew he had promised to give her anything, but this was going too far.

“I was skeptical at first too, but I feel so much better afterward. I know all the moves, I can show you exactly what to do. Please?” She could tell her arguments were doing nothing to persuade him, but still she persisted, she never was one to give up on the first try.

“Shelagh, my dear, I love you and I appreciate that I asked for help to get more in shape this year, but I meant cooking more vegetables and maybe talking walks together - definitely NOT learning moves from Trixie’s Keep Fit classes!”

“I know, I know, but it’s set to music and so much fun, you hardly even know you’re working out! What else could we do for exercise this entertaining?” As soon as the words left her lips, Shelagh recognized the twinkle in Patrick’s eyes and knew that this argument had been a mistake

“I can think of one or two things, my love,” Patrick answered huskily, his voice thick with desire as he moved himself closer to his wife.

Shelagh tried to keep her reply steady, determined not to be distracted by the man before her, but her voice betrayed her and refused to speak the words above a whisper, “that’s not exactly what I had in mind…” Her eyes betrayed her next as they swept over his frame, lingering upon his muscular arms and refusing to look away.

Before she knew what was happening, Patrick’s hands were upon her hips, lifting her up and twirling her around, landing her upon the bed as she squealed and giggled with delight. “It may not be what you had in mind, but I can guarantee it will be more fun.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Wearing Each Other’s Clothes**  
Shelagh awoke with a start at the sound of Teddy’s cries, stretching her limbs out from under her and rocking her neck back and forth, trying in vain to loosen the knots she had created with such an awkward sleeping position. How she had even managed to fall asleep with one leg under her, one arm above her head, and looking straight up at the ceiling was unexplainable other than the fact that between Teddy’s feedings and Angela’s nightmare, she had not slept a wink the night before.

Looking to her left, she expected to see Angela curled up asleep next to her as she had been before Shelagh dozed off. Except the young girl was nowhere to be seen. Her legs almost buckled beneath her when she jumped up, the circulation still not quite restored, but she ignored the tingling sensation running up and down her leg as she frantically grabbed Teddy from his cot and searched the downstairs for Angela. Not finding her there, Shelagh ran up the stairs, alternating between worry over whether Angela was okay and what kind of mischief she might have caused in the house.

A light coming from Shelagh’s bedroom alerted her to her daughter’s whereabouts. “Angela, dear, what are you doing in Daddy and Mummy’s room? You know you’re not allowed in…” Shelagh stopped short at the sight of her daughter and could not help but laugh.

“Look, Mummy! I’m Daddy!” she beamed to her mother.

Shelagh tried to remain stern, wanting to scold her daughter for so clearly violating the rules, but it was difficult when the sight before her was so precious. There, standing in front of the mirror admiring herself, was her daughter wearing an assortment of Patrick’s clothing - braces attached to her skirt, tie around her neck, and his long brown coat trailing the floor.


	9. Chapter 9

**Nursing the Sick One**  
The sounds of a violent coughing and the shaking of their mattress awoke Patrick from his slumber. Quickly he sat up, brushing the hair from his eyes to look over at Shelagh gasping for air, “Shelagh! Shelagh! Are you alright?” He put his hand to her forehead, she was burning with fever.

“I’m fine, Patrick. Really, there’s no need to fuss, I’ll be just fine.” But she didn’t feel fine, nor did she look it. Her skin was pale and sweat was beading upon her forehead as she tried to push herself off the bed.

“No” Patrick scolded firmly, “you need your rest.” And, as if anticipating her next move, he added, “and don’t even think about getting up to fix us breakfast or worry over Angela, Tim can handle that.”

“Honestly, I’ll be fine, I jus-” her words of reassurance were interrupted by another fit of coughing which belied her assertions, resulting in an exasperated sigh.

“You will be fine - after you’ve had some rest.” Patrick allowed no arguments as he gently pressed her back down on the bed and left the room.

Shelagh tried and failed again to rise from the bed, allowing herself a just moment to wallow in frustration before reaching across to the nightstand to retrieve her pencil and paper.

She had just finished her to-do list when Patrick returned with tea, a cool cloth for her head, and his stethoscope, holding up his hand against the protest he knew would come before his wife even spoke it, “you had TB once without even knowing it, I’m not taking any chances.”

Seeming satisfied with what he heard, or rather didn’t hear, in her lungs, Patrick smiled and placed the cloth on her head. Shelagh offered him a slip of paper in return, ignoring Patrick’s unamused stare, “can you bring me these items, please? I think it’s everything I might need to do my work from here.”

Patrick shook his head, unable to stifle a small chuckle at the dedication of his wife, “Absolutely not. I can handle the to-do list,” he ignored her dubious look, “You get some more sleep, darling, doctor’s orders.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Hair**  
“Shelagh dear, why are you scowling at your hairbrush?” Patrick asked gently as he slipped into the bedroom where his wife sat before the mirror. 

“I'm not scowling at my hairbrush. But look at this,” she held up two strands of hair, as if they were the only explanation needed, looking at Patrick in the mirror for his response to the offering. Registering his confused expression, she explained simply, “they're _grey_ Patrick!”

He smiled as he regarded his own hair in the mirror, “I've had greys in my hair since we were wed, sweetheart, it's about time you caught up! Besides, we have three children, you're bound to get a few from stress.”

Shelagh looked away, unamused, “But a man with silver in his hair looks distinguished, wise,” blushing as she turned face to face with him, “and remarkably handsome. But for me, it's just a sign of getting old and becoming less beau-

Patrick knelt before her, silencing her words with a kiss while driving both his hands into her hair, massaging her scalp with his fingertips. “First of all, you are beautiful no matter what color any of the strands of your hair are,” this point was reiterated with kisses along her hairline, “and second of all, I love seeing your hair turn grey, do you know why?”

Shelagh shook her head slowly, relishing the way it caused Patrick’s fingers to tangle in her hair, prompting her own fingers to go unbidden to brush the locks of his hair away from his forehead. Her hands seemed to be as unruly as his hair with how seldom she could stop herself from touching it.

“Every grey hair means you’re a little bit older,” his pointed look cut off her huff of protest, allowing him to continue, “I want to see you grow old, your hair glistening with silver. Shelagh, I’m grateful for each silver strand, because they represent the moments of a life I only ever dreamed I could have. Because every day I see you older means I got to spend one more day of my life with you.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Coffee and/or Tea**  
Shelagh didn’t think she could ever be as happy to wake up in her own bed as she was this morning. It had been weeks since she had a decent night sleep, as the mattresses at the mission in South Africa had been less than ideal, worry over the children constantly kept her awake, and the sounds so vastly different from what she was used to in Poplar had awoken her at all hours of the night. It had also been weeks since she had a decent cup of tea. She wasn’t sure whether she had missed her mattress or the tea more.

Taking a deep breath, willing her sore muscles to stretch and her fatigued body to begin the process of waking up, Shelagh reached over toward Patrick, only to realize that he was already up. She must have been exhausted, she never slept through him getting out of bed unless she was ill. At least she wouldn’t have to wait long for that tea, surely Patrick already had a kettle boiling.  
Using the promise of a piping hot cup to entice her out of bed, Shelagh wrapped herself in her dressing gown and made her way toward the kitchen. Today would be a good day, she smiled to herself: she was home, Granny Parker would be bringing the children home in a few hours, and finally, finally, she was going to be able to sit down with her husband and enjoy a good cup of tea.

And then she walked into the kitchen.

Her husband had indeed made her a cup, just the way she liked it. One whiff of the milk, however, sent her running in the opposite direction with butterflies in her stomach... _could it be?_

One thing was certain: tea was the last thing on her mind now.


	12. Chapter 12

**Cooking Together**  
Shelagh could see the beam of sunlight filtering in through the window before she even opened her eyes, she could hear her husband’s steady breathing, she could feel his strong arms wrapped around her waist and the coarse hair of his forearms beneath her hands, and soon she would taste him as they pulled each other close for a good morning kiss. She greeted her day the same way almost every morning since they had been wed, and Shelagh found the constancy of it to be quite reassuring, especially in those early days when everything was so new. Even now, exactly one decade later, she was thrilled for her senses to be awakened the same way each morning.

Except this morning, there was one sense that felt… wrong. As she drew another deep breath, there was definitely the scent of Patrick as there always was, but there was also something else. What was it? It couldn’t be, _bacon_ , could it? Or was it eggs? Did she smell toast? Shelagh jumped up, startling Patrick awake.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Patrick mumbled, still trying to process why Shelagh was out of bed so quickly on a morning he longed to spend some time with her before waking the kids.

“Don’t you smell that, Patrick? You don’t think the children are trying to cook their own breakfast, do you? They’ll burn the house down with all the different foods I smell!”

“Angela is ten, she’s old enough to make a little something if she wants it,” he said with eyes lingering on his wife’s figure in the morning sunlight, “come back to bed, I’m sure they’re fine.”

“I smell a full breakfast! She’s not quite old enough to handle bacon and eggs and toast and - do I smell pancakes too?” Shelagh rushed out the door and down the stairs before he could stop her, stopping short at the sight of her children cooking together. There was Teddy spreading jam on toast, Angela pouring two cups of tea, and _“Timothy?!?!”_ her mind was reeling seeing him frying bacon, “why aren’t you at university? What are you doing here?”

“Mum! You ruined the surprise! We were supposed to be bringing you breakfast in bed!” Angela pouted as Teddy ran to give his mother a hug.

“I found out yesterday that this today’s class was cancelled, and since it’s Friday I thought I’d come home for a long weekend.” Tim looked at his mother with a questioning gaze, “I hope it’s alright - I thought maybe I could pick up Angela and Teddy after school, it is your anniversary after all.” Tim’s face blushed as he added, “I thought you might want to be alone.”

Shelagh gathered her children close and hugged them tightly, placing a kiss upon the tops of Teddy and Angela’s heads and one upon Tim’s cheek. She glanced at Patrick as he came confused into the kitchen, his hair still mussed up and the buttons of his pyjama top askew from his haste pulling it on, her heart skipping that familiar beat, “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Timothy.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Washing Dishes**  
A contented sigh escaped her lips as she turned toward the sink to begin washing the dishes from their meal. Patrick loved to hear that sigh at the end of the day, it generally meant that her day had gone well and more than anything he loved to see her happy and content. Wiping the last remnants of crumbs off of Angela’s face, he shooed her into the sitting room to play on the floor with Teddy, “go play angel girl, I’m going to help Mummy with the dishes.” Smiling widely up at him, the girl immediately obeyed, excited to have a few more minutes to play before bedtime.

As Patrick placed the last of the plates in the soapy water, Shelagh tilted her head to look at him, an almost apologetic look in her eye, “Sorry you’re having to help with Tim’s chores tonight, but he really did need to go to the library to finish that project for school tomorrow.” She should know by now that he didn’t mind helping around the house, especially if it meant some time alone with her, but in case she didn’t, he placed his arms around her shoulders and gave them a tight squeeze as he placed three gentle kisses along her temple.

He spoke in a playful tone, “I’m happy to help,” and let his hands drop from her shoulders as he moved to stand behind her, pressing his body close to reach around her, fingertips running down her arms to join her hands in the water. Encouraged by the soft giggle which escaped her lips, Patrick nibbled at her earlobe before leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses along her neck.

A moan escaped her lips, “you know I meant for you to dry the dishes dear, I’m already washing them,” her words were breathy and full of need.

“With two of us, it will be done in half the time,” Patrick said with a smirk as he placed the plate he had washed on the counter beside the sink. He moved against her more firmly, pressing her into the counter, and he knew by her gasp and the gentle way she rocked her hips back toward him that she could feel the evidence of his desire between them.

Shelagh lifted her hands out of the water and spun around as quickly as his proximity would allow, kissing Patrick deeply before drying her hands on the back of his jumper with a wink. “Since you’re so keen on washing, why don’t you finish up?” She ducked under his arms and headed out of the kitchen with a sway of her hips that wasn’t completely necessary, “I’ll get the little ones tucked into bed.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Trying Something New**  
“You want to teach me poker?” Shelagh asked, a bit taken back by Patrick’s suggestion and, if she were honest, confused as to why he would want to spend a Timothy-free evening that way. She thought about telling him that she already knew how to play, about the nuns’ annual Christmas tradition at Nonnatus to have a little light-hearted fun before the carol singing, but the twinkle in his eye made her think twice about divulging all her secrets. He was up to something, she could tell.

“It will be fun, I promise!” Patrick said with a smile, “and we’ll do a few practice hands first before we raise the stakes.”

“Oh Patrick, you’re not suggesting we actually wager money when we play?” she asked doubtfully, “that seems a bit pointless when we share a bank account.”

“Wagers don’t always have to involve money, dear,” he assured her, the twinkle in his eye shining brighter with mischief. “It’s new, but I really do think you’ll enjoy it! I’m certain I will...” the last bit was muttered under his breath, he was definitely up to something.

Nearly an hour later, it was Shelagh’s eyes that danced with mirth as she looked at her husband, down to his vest and pants as she remained poised and fully clothed. Patrick gave a heavy sigh, this was not how he envisioned his idea of strip poker playing out - he had planned on purposely losing a hand or two so Shelagh would not feel bad, but he hadn’t been able to win a single one. “Who knew I married a card sharp?” he asked more to himself than her as he removed his vest before dealing the next hand.

“Nuns aren’t completely devoid of fun, sweetheart” she remarked nonchalantly as he laid down his pair of sixes. She grinned broadly, “full house, queens over twos. Looks like you lose again - pay up!”


	15. Chapter 15

**Kisses**  
Tiny fingers curling around her own in the early morning hours, along with the sounds of babbles and gurgles from baby Teddy filling the air, prompt the first kisses of the day. Shelagh gently places her lips upon each small finger, counting each one as she has done every morning since his birth. She lets out a giggle as she wiggles his toes and places a kiss on the bottom of each foot after changing his nappy.

More come before she's even fully descended the stairs, as Angela comes running in greeting, almost knocking her over by the sheer force of the accompanying hug. Shelagh knows she must never take for granted the joy her daughter's face displays when she sees Mummy each morning. In uncontainable, overwhelming happiness, she reaches down and places her hands on either side of the girl's face and plants a kiss upon each cheek.

Tim might claim he's old enough to not need or want good morning kisses from his mother, but Shelagh knows that despite his boasting of being a man, he will always be her Timothy. So despite his rolling eyes, she walks to his place at the breakfast table and plants a firm kiss into his unruly mop of hair.

Today the best kiss is saved for last, as Patrick turns toward her from preparing his cup of coffee. He has just gotten in from a long night on call, but seeing her smile temporarily eliminates his need for caffeine as he crosses the room to greet her. Even more eye rolls from Timothy, and a few from Angela who always wants to be just like her big brother, accompany the sweet embrace of husband and wife.


	16. Chapter 16

**Hugs**  
It all began one afternoon when Patrick came home early from his rounds needing to pick up some forgotten files for Sister Julienne. He couldn't help it, seeing her there washing the windows and swaying her hips to the tune she was humming loudly to herself, he had to show her how much he loved her. Lovingly, he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and was headed to press a soft kiss upon her hair when she let out a shriek and a rag was in his face. 

“What on earth are you doing? Patrick, you scared me half to death!”

“My love, I'm sorry! I thought you heard me come in…”

It truly had been an accident that first time, but two days later, Shelagh decided she wanted to get even. So, when he was on the phone at the surgery, she crept up behind him and grabbed him tightly. While he would say it wasn't a scream, both Shelagh and Nurse Franklin, who was on the other end of the line, argued otherwise.

Patrick wasn't sure when it had gone this far, but at some point their teasing, sneaking hugs had gone to another level. Which is why on this occasion, he found himself crouched in the cupboard waiting for Shelagh. Timothy had become appalled by their behavior, grumbling and complaining at every turn about wanting to have ‘normal parents’, but unfortunately for Tim, that was not to be his lot in life. Not when Patrick was rewarded for his efforts by Shelagh's captivating giggles and broad smile.


	17. Chapter 17

**Forgetting Something**  
Shelagh squared her shoulders as she looked up from the diary on her desk at the surgery, they had a long day ahead of them and were overbooked with patients. Not to mention the fact that she had agreed to help Sister Julienne sort through some paperwork at Nonnatus that evening.

Today would require all her concentration and strength and she was determined they would make it through this day in one piece. The problem was, Patrick had decided, today of all days, to wear that blasted blue jumper. Didn’t he know what that jumper did to her? Shelagh chuckled quietly to herself, realizing that yes, he probably did know exactly what that jumper did to her. To be fair, she had chosen one of her more form fitting dresses to wear today herself - they were both probably expressing their pent-up frustrations through their wardrobe choices. Life had just become so busy since they became a family of five.

Somehow, the pair managed to make it through the day with their sanity and their sense of propriety intact. Although the latter was a near miss during their abbreviated lunch break as Nurse Dyer almost caught them in a rather compromising position in the supply closet - luckily she was detained by someone in the hallway in time for them to hear her approach. Though their professionalism came through unscathed, Shelagh was unsure how much more either of them could take. He didn’t help matters at all when he rolled up the sleeves of that infernal jumper to his elbows.

Finally, after far too long, the final patient of the day had been seen and sent home. Work duties finished, their other obligations loomed large before them. But despite the need to leave soon,Shelagh fell into the chair of Patrick’s office, letting out a long sigh and kicking off her shoes before closing her eyes and stretching her neck back and forth. Before she knew it, as she rolled her head forward to stretch her muscles, he was standing before her, hands on the arms of her chair and his lips meeting the base of her neck. Her long, relaxing breaths suddenly turned shallow as he made his way up her neck to her pulse point to suck gently before landing upon her lips. All of her repressed passion suddenly burst forth as she kissed him greedily, tongues dancing and her fingers finding the muscles of his forearms, biceps, shoulders, chest - she couldn’t stop her hands from wandering the expanse of him as he towered above her.

Later, after her body calmed from their exertions and her heart rate returned to normal, their passion finally blissfully appeased, Shelagh hopped off the desk to make herself presentable again. But there was something niggling at the back of her mind, something she couldn’t quite place.

Neither one heard Sister Julienne’s retreating footsteps as she spoke, “Patrick - I get the sense that I’ve forgotten something...”


	18. Chapter 18

**A Heated Argument**  
“You make me so angry sometimes!” he shouted toward the kitchen where she stood, “why do you have to be so… _you_ all the time?” His face creased in frustration, his eyebrows almost meeting he was furrowing them together so fiercely. 

Her face reddened with anger, “me? How dare you act as if this is _my_ fault! It all began with your bright idea!” Her volume was not as high as his, but there was a fierceness behind her words that almost made him shudder.

He would have preferred her to shout, really, that righteous indignation she possessed was formidable and hard to argue against. Still, argue he did, he was determined and stubborn enough not to give up quite yet. “I may have had the idea, but you went along with it!”

She threw the stethoscope at him at that comment. “I really can hate you sometimes” she growled, her body beginning to shake, pent up emotion seeking an avenue out.

“Angela Julienne Turner!!” Shelagh scolded loudly before she even made it completely into the room, “how dare you say such things to your brother! Apologize to Teddy at once!”

“Why do you always fuss at me? Teddy started it!”

“Because you're older, and the one constantly saying you're grown now that you're almost a teenager. Perhaps you should act a bit more like it?”

“But mom…” she started to protest, but then saw their mother's eyes widen as she caught sight of the open medical bag and broken glass scattered about the floor. Now was not the best time to argue back. 

“I'm not even going to ask,” Shelagh pronounced, turning on her heels to leave the room again, “but you two had better get this mess cleaned up before your father comes downstairs. And don't think the replacement for that equipment won't be coming out of your pocket money.” She threw a glance at Teddy, “both of you!”

“What was that all about?” Patrick asked as Shelagh reached the top of the stairs.

“No idea. But I'd say the children will be sufficiently distracted for at least 20 minutes,” she said with a wink, pulling him toward their bedroom. No one ever said _they_ had to be the ones to fight in order to enjoy making up.


	19. Chapter 19

**Road Trips**  
Shelagh opened her eyes slowly, blinking quickly as she adjusted to the light that streamed in through the window her head leaned against. “How long did I sleep? How far have we gotten?” she asked quietly, mindful of the gentle snores from the back seat. 

“We still have another hour or so, you didn't sleep long.”

Shelagh sat upright, then slid across the seat to snuggle closer to her husband, her hand resting on his knee. “I'm sorry,” she whispered, “I tried to stay awake to keep you company--”

“You were on call last night and didn't get one wink of sleep,” Patrick scolded her gently, “you really should go back to sleep. I don't mind, really.”

“And risk you falling asleep behind the wheel?” she said, her voice a thrilling mixture of serious reprimand and playful excitement. “I need to help you pass the time.”

Patrick stole a glance at her then, noting the way her eyes danced with excitement as she looked up at him through her lashes. His breath caught in his throat when he saw her begin to nibble her lower lip - she only did that when she was up to something, the times she felt like being a bold girl. “What did you have in mind?” he asked, voice thick.

“Wouldn't you like to know?” she said with a teasing grin, stealing a glance at the children in the backseat, ensuring they were asleep before allowing her hand to drift from his knee. “But I promise the last thing you'll do is fall asleep.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Picnics**  
Patrick retrieved the picnic basket from the boot, throwing a lopsided grin toward Shelagh as she leaned against the side of the car. They had celebrated this anniversary for over a decade, but he never let himself take it for granted. It was sunny this afternoon, and unseasonably warm, a far cry from the misty scene it had been so long ago.

He handed the blanket to Shelagh, watching as she fluffed it out then meticulously smoothed the wrinkles over the warm grass. They had driven back down this road on a whim on the first anniversary of her release from the sanatorium, but the second year, Patrick had surprised her, dropping the children off at Nonnatus and bringing her to the perfect picnic spot he had found nearby. They had celebrated where they made their start the same way every year since.

This year they chatted about Tim's most recent letter home from university, Teddy's upcoming cub trip, Angela's growing interest in following her father around Tuesday clinic - about everything and nothing in particular, simply enjoying one another's presence without risk of interruption or medical emergency. Patrick laid his head in his wife's lap, enjoying the way fingers automatically went to sift through his hair and grasped her left hand into his own, bringing it forward to lay a soft kiss upon her ring the way he had done so long ago. 

Much had changed over the years, Patrick thought to himself, but one thing he knew would never change: he would always be grateful that he had been on the right road.


	21. Chapter 21

**Double Date**  
Taking one last glance down the hallway and up the stairs to ensure there were no witnesses, Shelagh quietly opened the door to Nonnatus House, quickly ushering her husband inside. Grabbing her waist, Patrick pulled her into a deep kiss. “What did you tell Tim?” Shelagh whispered breathless when they made their way toward the kitchen, “surely not the truth?”

“That my wife's voice was so beautiful on the phone that I had to sneak over to go on a ‘date’ while she's on call at a convent?” Patrick couldn't stifle a laugh, “not a chance! He didn't even ask, he's gotten so used to the rush out the door after a phone call.”

“Watch your volume!” Shelagh admonished, though her own giggles were just as loud.

“Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter,” a voice startled them out of their fascination with each other. 

“Sister Monica Joan! I, that is, we.. I mean, you should, why are you...” Patrick tried to piece together a coherent thought, but it was proving unsuccessful.

“If you might allow me the beauty of silence to enjoy the company I have chosen to keep,” she turned her attention back to the cake before her, placing a large bite in her mouth, enjoying it slowly before continuing, “unless you have brought something to share in that tin?”

“Of course, Sister,” Shelagh opened the small tin and offered it to her politely, sitting down as the elderly nun nodded to the seat in front of her, “thank you for letting us join you.”

Patrick stood dumbfounded for a few moments, still wondering how much of his flirting with his wife in the hallway had been heard. Reluctantly he took a seat at Shelagh's hard stare, suddenly wishing he was anywhere else. 

As if she could read his mind, the Sister simply stated, “you need not worry that I will betray your intentions here, Doctor, for my own date and I will keep silent.” She smiled mischievously as she ate the last bite of her cake and rose to leave with a wink.


	22. Chapter 22

**Shopping (for fun)**  
Shelagh walked around the tiny shop for what seemed like an eternity, looking over all the colors and fabrics, completely unable to decide upon a purchase. Holding up piece after piece to examine closely, then taking the time to fold the small garments up again, she realized she was never going to be able to make up her mind this way. She needed to narrow it down, make things easier, so she wasn't trying to decide from the whole store, but rather just a selection of it. 

First question: style? The displays were set up by style, so it seemed easiest to begin there. Trying to ignore every other consideration, she finally found the display that she thought would fit the occasion best. She wanted it to be perfect.

Second question: size? She didn't want anything too small, obviously, but she also didn't want to have to deal with piles of fabric either.

Third question: color? Shelagh looked over the selection before her, quickly ruling out the reds and blues before settling upon a beautiful mint green piece that would look beautiful with blue eyes.

Mindful of all the time she had already spent wandering the shop, she made her purchase immediately and rushed home to Patrick and the children, eager to show her husband what she had picked out.

When she arrived at the flat, she found Patrick in the kitchen. Eyeing the bag, he turned from his preparations of Angela's bottle, raising his eyebrows in question. “Is that it?” he asked with a grin, “may I see?”  
“Of course!” she said, pulling out the small bundle of fabric, “what do you think?”

Patrick rubbed the hem between his thumb and forefinger as Shelagh held it up for inspection, “It's perfect!” He beamed the way only a new father smitten with his daughter can, “Angela will look so beautiful in this dress!”


	23. Chapter 23

**Keeping Plants**  
Shelagh was in the kitchen peeling the potatoes for dinner when she heard the muffled rustling from the other side of the front door. Wiping her hands and making her way to investigate, she heard the knob jiggling and another muffled scrape against the door before it finally swung open, banging against the wall with force.

“Timothy? Is that you? Whatever have you got there?” she asked the boy, her view of his face obstructed by a box full of tiny plants. 

“Science experiment for school,” he said proudly as he swung his foot around to kick the door shut, earning him a stern glance from his mother. “Sorry,” he muttered, moving to place the box on the table. 

“But why do you need quite so many plants?” Shelagh asked, taking a moment to examine the contents of the box before moving back into the kitchen to go back to her earlier task.

“That's the cool part - you and Dad get to take part in the experiment too!” he explained through the hatch as he unpacked the box, “everyone in the family is supposed to take care of a set of plants, then we compare what we did, where we placed them, and how well they grew.”

“I'm not sure your father is going to be as excited about this experiment as you are, but I'm glad to help with your schoolwork, you know that,” she smiled lovingly. “But clear that table off, we'll not want dirt in our dinner!”

Four weeks later, Tim gathered his carefully labeled plants back into the box, examining each one and taking note of its condition. His plants looked in decent enough shape - he'd given them plenty of sunlight and enough water, so they grew nicely.

Looking over the next batch of plants, he turned to Shelagh, “Mum, how did your plants grow so well? What's your secret?”

“Just sunlight and water, my dear,” she said simply, then adding as if the answer should be quite obvious, “and of course I sing to them.”

Turning finally to his father's, Tim had to stifle a laugh. “I think you might need to teach Dad a thing or two, his are practically dead!” One had clearly been forgotten, it's dried out leaves and stems testimony to the fact that it had never been watered. The others were in slightly better condition, but not by much.

Shelagh came to examine her husband's results. “I think, Timothy,” she said, tossing a grin over to Patrick, “this is quite clearly a case of failure to thrive. Best stick with practicing medicine, dear.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Pets**  
“Angela, is something the matter? You've barely touched your cornflakes.” Shelagh was concerned about her daughter; the usually chipper and overly talkative teen had taken to being relatively silent around the dinner table, especially when they asked about her day at school, and this morning she seemed rather preoccupied. “Has something happened at school?” she questioned, laying a gentle hand upon her daughter's shoulder. 

“No, that's not it, Mum, it's just…” her voice trailed off, unsure how to continue, an awkward silence filling the room.

Shelagh knew that Angela was enough like her father that sometimes she held her emotions close, but would eventually open up if given enough time. “I'll go check on your brother, you eat your breakfast, and then we can talk, hmm?” Angela nodded absently, swirling her spoon through the milk, not yet lifting it to her mouth. 

As Shelagh left Teddy's room a few minutes later, she hoped her daughter would be ready to talk, Teddy was well on his way to being ready for school and their bus would leave soon. The empty bowl on the table gave her hope. 

“Mum?” her voice was tentative, and Shelagh couldn't figure out if she detected more fear or curiosity in the child's voice.

Best keep the tone light, but serious, “yes angel girl?”

Angela was suddenly struck with an idea of how to broach this delicate and, frankly embarrassing, subject with her mother. “Mum,” she spoke with a bit more confidence now, “how does one go about… um, getting a name for a goldfish?”

When Angela arrived home from school that day, there was a bowl with a small orange fish in her room with a blank label set up in front. It was almost a week later, but one evening Shelagh saw her daughter's neat cursive handwriting on the label: George.


	25. Chapter 25

**Vacation**  
Shelagh let out a long sigh as she relaxed back into the chair, digging her toes in the sand. This was really a good idea, she just wished it hadn’t taken more than five years for them to actually get there. Pushing those thoughts out of her mind, Shelagh tried to focus upon the here and now - the sharp cries of the gulls circling above, the warmth of the sun on her legs contrasting sharply with the coolness of the sand as she dug her feet deeper, the melody of the waves lapping on the shore in a soothing, steady rhythm. She tried to slow her mind from thoughts of the children, surgery, the Maternity Home, Tuesday Clinic, mother and baby classes… breathing each worry in then out, in time with the sea waves.

“You look relaxed,” Patrick commented upon his approach with two ice creams, handing one over to Shelagh before descending into his own chair.

“Mmm-hmm” Shelagh nodded in response with a contented smile as she ate her treat, “I’m determined to make the most of this vacation, it may be another five years before I get another one with you!”

Patrick grinned and said with a chuckle, “we could always go camping.” He paused a moment in thought, “you know, I think that camping trip was the last time I wore these shorts! I really ought to get them out more often.”

Shelagh couldn’t help but laugh, almost losing her last bite of ice cream to the sand, “no dear, you really shouldn’t!”

He looked at her with mock astonishment, eyes comically wide, “and here I thought my legs were my best feature!” He held his right leg high for examination to prove his point and Shelagh made a show of looking him up and down, judging him slowly as if in a beauty pageant before bursting into giggles again and simply shaking her head.

Patrick began looking his wife up and down in much the same manner, but there was nothing comical about the way she looked smiling and laughing and relaxed and oh so beautiful in her swimming suit. Suddenly, the wind seemed to shift and the air around them changed. “Patrick, what are you thinking about?”

“Not the ulcer clinic…”


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This prompt was dedicated to the lovely Stephen McGann and his pink shirt, which caused quite a stir on Tumblr prior to his talk on 04/28/18 at Imperial College

**House Cleaning**  
Shelagh hummed along with the radio, swaying her hips as she wrung the suds out of the rag. Her hands took on the timing of the music as they swirled across the window, the circle of clear glass growing larger as she washed away the dirt and grime of winter. Dipping the stained cloth in the water once more, she moved on to the next window, allowing her mind to become lost in the music.

“Shelagh? Sweetheart, are you home?” Patrick’s voice floated through the flat, breaking Shelagh from her reverie.

“Out here!” she called, “How did the talk go?”

Patrick made his way to her, dropping his bag in the sitting room. “It was splendid! Everyone seemed so eager to learn about the histories of the diseases…” he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her, covered in water droplets from her washing, hair pulled back with a handkerchief. This wasn’t an unusual reaction from him, he always found her stunning and could rarely hide it, but it was not the vision of his wife that made him stop this time. “Is that my shirt you’re using?” he asked in astonishment.

“This old thing? Well, when you wore your blue shirt today, I assumed you didn’t want this one anymore. It seems a good enough rag,” she spoke with a grin.

“Shelagh! That’s my favorite shirt! I only didn’t wear it because there was some talk about-”

He was interrupted by a burst of laughter, Shelagh clearly unable to keep a straight face any longer. “Sweetheart, this is a rag that got stained pink with cherry aid. Honestly, you should see your face!” She paused a moment to give him a kiss on the cheek, “Your lovely pink shirt is safe and sound upstairs.”


	27. Chapter 27

**I Love You’s**  
As she stood in front of the mirror preparing for bed and thought over the day, Shelagh couldn't help but get emotional again. It had been a difficult day for them all, even if it was an expected and happy occasion. They had said goodbye to Timothy just a few hours ago, waving him off as he began his journey into adulthood’s first step: heading off to university. Had that little boy who's scrapes she had helped bandage really grown so much? Where was the boy so excited over brylcreem, so frustrated about having to attend choir practice? She was so proud of the man he had become, but would miss him so much around the house.

A single look from Patrick as he entered the room and she was undone. An entire day of keeping her emotions in check had worn her thin and sobs came pouring out like water from the faucet. She was certain she could fill the tub with her tears - happy and sad and confused tears. “Do you think he's okay? Does he know how much I love him?”

Patrick pulled his wife close, gently caressing her hair as questions and tears intermingled and overlapped. “I don't know, sweetheart,” he said with a teasing grin, “you only said ‘I love you’ about 1,000 times today.”

The gentle teasing had the desired effect, as she stopped crying to playfully smack him on the chest, “I'm so glad I have you to console me with your wonderful bedside manner!”

Grinning, he stooped down to kiss her gently. “You know, I felt a little left out today… You gave all your I love you’s to the children!” His eyes twinkled as he put his hands on his hips to draw her close, “how can you be sure I know how much you love _me_?

“Perhaps I should find a way to show you,” she purred, pulling him into a passionate embrace.

*****

Legs tangled, sheets wrinkled, and heart rates finally calming, Shelagh rested on Patrick's bare chest, soothed by its steady rise and fall. “Shelagh,” he spoke slowly, with a soft reverence in his voice, “I love you too.”


End file.
